


i lay my life before you

by caniculeo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Weddings, or as canon compliant as a wedding fic can be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caniculeo/pseuds/caniculeo
Summary: Now that Akaashi thinks about it, he and Bokuto have never been anything close to ordinary. He wonders why he'd ever expected their wedding to be otherwise.bokuaka week day 3 - future
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kagehina if you squint?
Comments: 53
Kudos: 340
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	i lay my life before you

**Author's Note:**

> happy bokuaka week, everyone!  
> i strongly recommend listening to some sweet, slow love songs while reading this for maximum impact. my go-to songs while writing were some by ed sheeran ([perfect](https://open.spotify.com/track/0tgVpDi06FyKpA1z0VMD4v?si=zGrL2QrtQ-G2qYu7mhy3DA), [photograph](https://open.spotify.com/track/1HNkqx9Ahdgi1Ixy2xkKkL?si=j7ZMN5FUTw-J7Pf2a5Ngsw)), and christina perri ([a thousand years](https://open.spotify.com/track/6lanRgr6wXibZr8KgzXxBl?si=S4UQ4qDGRke-5c94d0-yYA), [arms](https://open.spotify.com/track/5u0YB9bpmgEPS2bPhwfRFV?si=Ebkb5sLfRUqJB9XsyKfegQ)).

Akaashi is halfway through his first year of high school when he realizes he is in love with Bokuto Koutarou.

He knows Bokuto has plenty of admirers when he's on the court and feeling his best, drawing everyone's attention. In this respect, Akaashi is one of many. It's painfully easy to fall for Bokuto when he's like that: ebullient, brilliant, a force of nature. But then again, those are his highs. There aren’t many people who stay infatuated with Bokuto after they’ve seen him at his lows, and the fluctuation itself can prove to be off-putting. But to Akaashi, Bokuto is lovable in that he is Bokuto and nothing more, nothing less.

Akaashi's feelings are terrifying and sweet all at once, and wholly undeniable. He tries to keep it a secret, but everything about Bokuto—his smile, his legs, the exuberant way he says _Akaashi_!—threaten to drag the truth out of him. So Akaashi tries to appease his heart by telling someone, if not everyone.

"Konoha-senpai," Akaashi says one winter morning, and swallows. "I think I'm in love with Bokuto-san."

"Oh," Konoha says. He hesitates for a second, then shrugs. "Well, that's fine, isn't it?"

Akaashi blinks. He'd been expecting a much bigger reaction, had prepared himself for teasing or even ridicule. And yet here's Konoha, still taping his fingers nonchalantly.

"Why do you look so upset about it?" Konoha continues. "Is it because he's stupid sometimes? Because that's fair, you know."

“He’s not stupid,” Akaashi says, before he catches himself.

Konoha grins at that. “Maybe not, if he managed to get someone like you to fall for him,” he says. He pats Akaashi on the back. “Well, are you gonna confess to our wonderful ace?”

Akaashi shakes his head, swallowing. “I just wanted to tell... _someone_ ,” he says. And then he is struck by a sudden sense of terror. “Please,” he says, voice breaking. “Please don’t tell anyone. Especially not him.”

Konoha softens. “Of course not,” he says. “But I’ll be cheering for you, alright? And who knows?” He grins. “Things might not be as hopeless as you think they are. Keep your head up, Akaashi.”

Years later, Akaashi will learn that Konoha had almost the exact same conversation with Bokuto a week afterwards. Years later, Akaashi will understand why Konoha always looked like he was going to tear out his own hair every time he’d heard one of many variations of _I don’t know if he likes me… but do you think he might? Just a little?_

They have their first kiss after Bokuto’s last national tournament. Akaashi cannot say for sure which one of them moves first—it is more than likely they move at the same time, in tandem, taking a leap of faith together. 

The kiss is soft and a little clumsy. It is a culmination of years of gentle touches and stolen looks across the court, of quickening heartbeats and warm little thrills, of fondly-spoken _Bokuto-san_ s and _Akaashi_ s. It is absolutely wonderful. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for forever,” Bokuto says afterwards. He is uncharacteristically quiet in his contentment, threading his fingers between Akaashi’s. And then, because he is Bokuto Koutarou and he fears nothing, “I love you, you know?”

“I know,” Akaashi says. He is sixteen and the happiest boy in the world. “I know. I love you too, Bokuto-san.”

So they start dating (“ _Finally_ ,” Konoha says, “fucking _finally”_ ), but they don’t have much time together before they go long-distance. The universe is a little cruel for that, but there’s not much point in complaining, so Bokuto and Akaashi get used to having long phone calls, to smiling down at text messages, to missing each other. God, Akaashi has never missed anyone like this before, with an ache deep in his chest like his heart is being pulled out of his ribs. 

But he knows he is lucky simply in having what they have, so he puts on a brave face and looks to the future. And on the rare occasions where they are reunited, they are both suffused with joy and excitement, almost like children. Longing makes their touches desperate to the point of inelegance, but when he is caught up in the heat of the moment and the sheer delight of simply being able to hold Bokuto and kiss him, Akaashi couldn’t care less. 

“You know, Akaashi,” Bokuto says one day, “you’re like music.”

They’re lying in bed, just relaxing. There’s no context to what Bokuto is saying: there isn’t even a song playing in the back or anything. 

“Like… my voice?” Akaashi says, flattered. 

Bokuto grins. “Kinda,” he says. “But not just that.” He reaches out and briefly places a hand on Akaashi’s chest, the touch warm and thrilling. “Everything, you know?”

“Ah,” Akaashi says, though he’s not quite sure he understands the specifics. And then he thinks about music—the way a good song makes him feel, like he could listen to it forever and a day, like he is being nourished at the soul. Akaashi smiles, a little overwhelmed. “Thank you, Bokuto-san.” 

Satisfied, Bokuto lays his head down on his arms and grins. Seeing him like this, Akaashi feels his heart ache, preparing itself for the pain of separation. In the morning, Bokuto will have to leave again, and Akaashi will be left wanting, longing, yearning. 

As if reading his mind, Bokuto shifts and pulls Akaashi close so that they are flush against each other. He kisses Akaashi gently, speaking without using words: _I’ll miss you too, you know._

Things aren't always smooth sailing, though—Bokuto and Akaashi aren't perfect people, and it’s not easy to be together when they’re so far apart. When Akaashi is twenty and exhausted and miserable from university, when Bokuto’s brilliance is momentarily blinding to him instead of beautiful, they have their first and last proper fight. 

_I think we should stop seeing each other_ , Akaashi says after weeks of agonizing and coming to the conclusion that this is the right thing to do. The expression on Bokuto's face is enough to break Akaashi's heart a thousand times over. Akaashi bites his lip, tries to stay strong. But he should've known better than to think that Bokuto would agree easily.

They fight. For real this time, with them both shouting and Bokuto crying from anger and hurt and Akaashi trying to keep it together but falling apart anyways. _No_ , Bokuto keeps saying, _no, I love you_ , _why_ , and Akaashi tries to explain that he loves Bokuto too—so much he could die—but this is something altogether separate from that.

Because—well, what's the point of Bokuto being with Akaashi, someone who can barely meet him once a month, who can't give him anything useful? There are other people out there, beautiful people who will do better things for Bokuto than drag him down. At the end of the day, there's no reason for Bokuto to stay with Akaashi anymore, because—

"You don’t—you don't _need_ me, Bokuto-san," Akaashi finally says, voice breaking.

"So?" Bokuto says, fierce. His voice is hoarse from crying but his eyes are bright and determined. "You don't need me, either."

Akaashi blinks, opens his mouth to say something. Closes it. All these years, and he's never really thought about it that way.

"But do we _have_ to need each other for this?" Bokuto continues, more gently. "Isn't—isn't just wanting enough?"

"Oh," Akaashi says, taken aback. _Oh_. He sits down next to Bokuto on the bed, almost stunned into silence. 

Akaashi’s always known that Bokuto has a gift of voicing the truth at the most unexpected moments, of pulling back the veil of uncertainty that so often clouds Akaashi's own thoughts. Yes, occasionally, Bokuto is the mouthpiece of the universe. Everything he’s saying is absolutely true.

They’re together not because they are dependent on each other—Bokuto is his own person, and so is Akaashi, and should this all fall apart today, they’ll still be able to walk their own separate paths. But they choose each other anyways, because what they have is ultimately beautiful and pleasant and good, even if it is not perfect. It doesn’t complete them, doesn’t fix them. But it does make them better and happier, and that in itself is enough.

When had Akaashi forgotten something so obvious? 

As if encouraged by Akaashi’s thoughtful silence, Bokuto shifts closer to him. The anger, the tension in the air has all but disappeared.

"Akaashi, I love you because I love you," Bokuto says, eyes bright and honest. "Not because I need you. Is it… is it not the same for you?"

 _Ah._ “Of course it is,” Akaashi says, almost astounded by the simplicity of it all. _I love you because I love you._ And then he laughs gently—it feels like his first laugh in weeks—and presses against Bokuto’s familiar warmth. “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san. I’ve been a bit of an idiot, haven’t I?”

Bokuto’s grin is radiant. “Never,” he says. And then his expression grows teasing. “Well, maybe a little.”

Akaashi laughs again, kisses him on the mouth. He feels Bokuto smiling. When they break apart, Akaashi is happier than he’s been in weeks.

"Bokuto-san," he begins, solemn but fond.

"Akaashi," Bokuto says, mimicking his tone teasingly. Akaashi flicks him softly on the forehead. "Ow!'

Akaashi is overfull with adoration. He rests his head on Bokuto's shoulder. "When I graduate," he says, "let's move in together."

Bokuto takes Akaashi's hand and kisses it. He is beaming; he is the embodiment of joy. "Yes," he says. "Let's do that."

Their first home is a relatively modest apartment that they pick out with the help of Akaashi’s mother. Even then, it’s not like they see each other all the time: Akaashi’s new job is tiring and busy, and Bokuto is still on the road more often than not. But it’s still lovely to spend the holidays and the off-season together, and learn new things about each other. 

Some things are funny: Akaashi realizes early on that Bokuto is much better at cooking than he is, and that Bokuto has a pretty big thing for Akaashi in glasses (or more accurately, Akaashi in nothing but glasses). Some things are even more intimate: the way Bokuto arranges his desk, the way he sings little made-up songs as he cleans the kitchen, the way he looks at Akaashi fondly in the morning when they have both just woken up.

Akaashi meets Udai Tenma at a Black Jackals game. It is a coincidence of coincidences: they work at the same company and they both have pasts tied to volleyball. It’s a little hard to believe that Tenma’s the little giant that Hinata (who’s off somewhere in South America, apparently) had admired so ardently in high school. Tenma is mild and easy to get along with, and he and Akaashi quickly form a habit of going to volleyball games together when they can. Sometimes, they speak with Bokuto after the game is over, or even go out with him for dinner. 

“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping,” Tenma says one day, on their way back. “But—are you and Bokuto-san seeing each other?”

Akaashi blinks. “How did you know?” he asks, a little wary. 

Tenma smiles. It’s a kind smile. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, Akaashi-kun,” he says. “You and he both.”

One evening after a get-together with their old friends from Fukurodani, Akaashi finds himself leaning against Bokuto on the couch as they watch some kind of variety show and mull over recent news.

“So, Coach is married now, huh?” Bokuto says, almost wonderingly. 

“Guess he is,” Akaashi says. 

“I wonder what that feels like,” Bokuto says absently. 

Akaashi has never been an impulsive person. But in that moment, he does not stop himself from saying the first thing that comes to mind, mostly because he means every word of it. 

“Why don’t we find out?” he asks.

It takes a moment for Bokuto to realize. And then his eyes light up, and he grins so brightly that he gives the sun a run for its money.

Akaashi has never had any lofty ideas about marriage—he has never romanticized it the way some people do. His parents have taught him that marriage isn’t binding, isn’t magical. And it’s not like much will change with Bokuto even if they do go through with it: after all, they live together already, and they love each other wholeheartedly. Marriage is just a formality at this point, something for other people to see on paper.

And yet when Akaashi imagines being able to look at Bokuto and say _oh, this is my husband, Koutarou-san_ , of being able to think _we are family_ , he cannot help but want. And he knows Bokuto feels the same. 

At the end of the day, this will just be another wonderful way that they can say _I love you_.

They tell Konoha first, because—well, because he deserves it. 

Konoha listens to the news with a mixture of shock and delight. “Ah, fuck,” he says, clenching his fists. “I’m so happy for you guys. Congratulations. I’m so damn happy.” And then he looks up, rosy-cheeked with emotion. “Well? When is it?”

“Next year, probably,” Bokuto says, sharing a glance with Akaashi. “We were thinking sometime in the summer. But we still need to hire someone to plan it and everything, so.”

“I can do that,” Konoha says.

Bokuto laughs. “Konoha, you’re funny—“

“I said, _I can do that_ ,” Konoha says, and they both realize in a split second that he is dead serious. “What, you think I can’t?”

“I mean, it’s a lot, senpai,” Akaashi says, picking his words cautiously. “Are you sure you actually want to?”

Konoha exhales sharply. “Listen,” he says. “I’ve been with you guys since day one, like—like some patron saint of your relationship. Do you really think I’d be able to let some rando manage your wedding after all the work I’ve put into you two? _Let me plan your wedding_.”

And, well. How could they say no to that?

Konoha outperforms himself. He discusses logistics with Bokuto’s parents, Akaashi’s mother. He also ends up enlisting Yukie and Kaori and even Kuroo, somehow. And with Kuroo comes Kenma, though Akaashi suspects that Kenma’s just here to have some time off with people he tolerates. 

Bokuto and Akaashi’s apartment becomes their discussion base, and even though their gatherings end up somehow being half a dinner party, Konoha always ensures that they make at least some progress. Together, they decide on something small, western. And as per Akaashi’s request, as normal as they can make it. He’s not quite inclined to anything too out of the ordinary. 

The first problem they run into is the venue—it’s predictably difficult to find a place in spring and summer. 

“I’ll help you out with the venue,” Kenma says nonchalantly from the corner where he’s sitting. He doesn’t look up from his Switch. “Don’t worry about it.”

Akaashi eventually discovers that this means not only helping them magically book a rather nice place during peak season, but paying for all of it. When he and Bokuto insist that they can't let him do that, Kenma is adamant. 

"Who else would I spend my money on?" Kenma asks, quiet but firm. He smiles. "Think of it as a wedding gift."

Over the years, Akaashi had always suspected that Kenma held a rather soft spot for him and Bokuto, but it's touching all the same to have his suspicions confirmed. They're confirmed yet again when Kenma sneakily covers catering and music as well. Akaashi gives up on trying to dissuade him. After all, who is he to resist the whims of the rich and powerful?

Things start falling into place after that, though it’s pretty slow-going. Guest list, invitations (“Can’t we just text people?” Bokuto asks), their entourage (Kuroo is Bokuto’s best man and Konoha is Akaashi’s), the pre-wedding party, the reception and dinner. It’s... a lot, but Konoha takes care of it, scrawling notes on his iPad and delegating tasks like he’s the project manager of a high-tech company with approaching deadlines. 

“And you two—“ Konoha points a pencil at Bokuto and Akaashi, making Bokuto jump. “Pick a song! Learn how to dance!”

“Yeah!” Yukie exclaims, leaping out from the kitchen and brandishing a spatula and wine glass. She may or may not be a little inebriated—Akaashi can’t tell. “Dance! Woohoo!” 

Akaashi grins, squeezing Bokuto’s hand gently under the table. Their weekly dinner party is probably about to start. 

Even with all the wedding preparations, life still goes on, strangely ordinary despite the anticipation in the air. Sometimes, when Akaashi is at work or out with friends, he thinks, _I’m going to be married in a few months_ , _and Bokuto-san is my fiancé,_ and has to sit there in silence for a few moments from surprise and sheer happiness. 

One day, he and Bokuto go out for lunch with Kageyama and Hinata, which they do rather often lately. Ever since Hinata had returned to Japan and joined the Jackals, Akaashi sees quite a bit of both him and Kageyama Tobio. Bokuto likes to hang out with them, and Akaashi, well. Akaashi’s fond of them—god, he really is, but it’s no secret they stress him out sometimes. Even now, Hinata and Kageyama still bring out the competitive fifteen-year-olds in each other, and it is both wonderful and tiring to watch. 

“What’s the point of giving Kageyama a plus one, Akaashi-san?” Hinata is asking brightly, with a devious grin. "It's not like he's got anyone to bring, anyways—"

"I'm bringing my sister, dumbass!" Kageyama snarls.

The four of them are eating in the outdoor seating of the restaurant, and the weather is surprisingly warm for early spring. It would be relaxing if Hinata weren’t doing his best to get a rise out of Kageyama, and if Kageyama weren’t falling for it every time. 

Bokuto grins, silent but on the verge of laughter. Akaashi knows Bokuto is more than amused by Hinata and Kageyama's bickering, and watches it like one would watch a nature documentary on the courtship of exotic birds.

"Yes, Kageyama's bringing his sister," Akaashi says. "Now, can we all please stop shouting in public?" The last thing he wants is the paparazzi showing up.

"Sorry," Hinata says in a near-whisper, and even Kageyama looks abashed.

Bokuto taps Akaashi gently on the shoulder. "Konoha just texted me," he says, looking down at his phone. "Something about whether we want a ring bearer." He glances at Akaashi. "That's supposed to be like—a kid or something, right? I can't think of anyone off the top of my head."

"I mean," Akaashi says, thinking, "it's not like it's we actually need one. We can just have Kuroo-san—"

“I’ll do it!” Hinata says, eager.

Kageyama scoffs. “You can’t be the ring bearer, idiot, you’re like twenty-three!“

“I can be whatever I wanna be!” Hinata retorts, glaring at Kageyama. And then he glances at Bokuto and Akaashi. “I mean, only if you both want it, of course.”

Bokuto is already giving Akaashi puppy-dog eyes: _please, please?_ Between him and Hinata, who is practically vibrating with anticipation, Akaashi has nowhere to turn. 

He sighs. “I mean, if we don’t find anyone else—"

Hinata whoops even before Akaashi finishes the sentence. “I’m gonna be a _ring bearer_!” he yells to the sky, and high-fives Bokuto enthusiastically with both hands. “I’ll bear those rings _so_ well, Akaashi-san! Don’t worry!”

“If Hinata gets to be ring bearer, can I be the flower girl?” Kageyama demands, very seriously.

Akaashi looks at him: a towering professional athlete in his early twenties, with the resting expression of a contract killer. But Kageyama's a good kid, and it really looks like this is something he truly wants, even if just to best Hinata at—at what? Akaashi doesn't even know.

"Do what you want," Akaashi says, resigned, and bids farewell to any possibility of a normal wedding. Konoha will probably be livid.

Hinata and Bokuto burst into raucous, overjoyed laughter. Kageyama looks triumphant. 

“No, Keiji, the other foot.” A laugh. “You’re going the wrong way.”

As Konoha has requested, they‘re learning how to dance together. Or more accurately, Bokuto is teaching Akaashi, because Akaashi’s hopeless at it. Akaashi would be a little frustrated if it weren’t so nice to touch Bokuto’s shoulder and hold his hand the entire time.

“Are people actually going to be looking at our feet?” he asks, sighing when he steps on Bokuto, _again._ Bokuto doesn’t even wince.

“Who cares?” he says. “But I think it’d be fun to dance with you from time to time. Even after this—when we’re older, you know?”

“Ah,” Akaashi says. He’s suddenly feeling an awful lot of affection, and some other less decent things as well. It’s all the touching, Bokuto’s hand on his waist, the way Bokuto looks—handsome and warm—against the soft light of their bedroom window. Akaashi stops and stares. Licks his lips.

Bokuto laughs. “What?” he says.

“Nothing,” Akaashi says, and surges upward to kiss him full on the mouth. Bokuto makes a happy little sound of surprise, grinning into the kiss, and reciprocates with fervour. It's been years since high school, but they still do this like teenagers sometimes: desperate and passionate, shedding their clothes haphazardly onto the floor, tripping over things as they maneuver to their destination. Together, they fall onto the bed with an unexpected amount of force, enough to somehow knock Akaashi’s glasses clean off his face.

Bokuto laughs, delighted. Akaashi grins and pulls him back down for another kiss. 

“Oh yeah, do you guys wanna hold bouquets?” Konoha says, a few weeks before the wedding. “I don’t know how I forgot about this, but it’s not too late.”

They’re sitting together at the dining table. Everyone else has dispersed to prepare for dinner, either to the balcony or the kitchen. Akaashi is sipping on something vaguely cherry-flavoured, feeling a little buzzed. 

“Sure,” Akaashi says. He’s always liked flowers. “Bokuto-san probably would too, but you’ll have to ask.”

Coincidentally, Bokuto chooses this moment to poke his head out from the kitchen.

"Bokuto!" Konoha calls, waving him over, and Bokuto makes his way to them, cheeks rosy from drinking. Akaashi cannot help but smile. 

“Do you want bouquets?” Konoha asks.

“Bouquets?” 

“You know, to throw after you walk out. Usually, it’s for—”

“You know me, Konoha,” Bokuto says, kissing Akaashi on the forehead and then taking a sip of his drink. “I’ll throw anything!” And with that cryptic announcement, he leaves, presumably to rejoin Kuroo in the kitchen. 

Konoha looks like he’s trying to ascend to another plane of existence. “So that’s a yes… right? Why is it so hard for him to just say yes or no?”

Akaashi laughs. He pats Konoha on the back. “Well, if it helps,” he says, “I’ll throw anything too, Konoha-san.”

Konoha groans and scrawls down _bouquet_ on his iPad. “You guys owe me your firstborn,” he mutters under his breath. “Or your first cat. Whatever.” 

They end up having just one bachelor party of sorts, because there isn’t much point in having separate ones when they’re pretty much friends with all the same people. It’s a simple affair: they invite most of their high school friends, a few teammates, some other acquaintances. First, they head out to dinner at a nice restaurant, though not too nice. Akaashi is mindful of the sort of people he and Bokuto are friends with, and it wouldn’t do to have them all kicked out on a night like this. The food is good, and the restaurant is loud enough for their nonsense to blend into background noise. Most of it, that is.

Hinata is excitedly talking about his time in Rio when someone’s phone starts obnoxiously blaring what seems to be a children’s song. The sound is frankly thunderous. Half the restaurant turns to look. 

“Ah, sorry, that’s me,” Atsumu says, and declines the call swiftly. He looks up, nonchalant. “You were saying?”

A moment of collective silence. 

“Was that the _Totoro_ theme song?” Akaashi asks, finally realizing why the ringtone had sounded so familiar. 

“It was,” Yukie says, smirking. 

Atsumu seems to realize that everyone’s staring at him now. “What,” he says defensively, “you guys got something against Ghibli movies? They cleanse the soul, okay?”

“No, we know,” Bokuto says. He blinks, mystified. “It was just… it was just so _loud_.”

“Yeah, because I miss the call it if it’s quiet!” Atsumu retorts, getting red in the face. “Samu, tell them, I…” 

Osamu is not looking at him. Osamu is shaking with silent laughter. 

“Asshole,” Atsumu hisses, hitting him on the head. And then, a little desperate, “Can you all stop judging me already? Stop it!”

“No,” says Sakusa, with relish. 

“We’re not judging you,” Akaashi says, amused. “We’re just… surprised.”

Atsumu groans. 

“You’d better remember to put your phone on silent at the actual wedding, dumbass,” Osamu says, slightly recovered from his fit of hysterics. 

“I _will_ ,” Atsumu says, scoffing. “I’m not an idiot.”

“You say that so often,” Sakusa says. “I don’t think you know what it means.”

“He doesn’t,” Osamu says, nodding. “You know, when we were sixteen, he tried to impress his crush by eating out of a—”

Atsumu slaps a hand over Osamu’s mouth, looking equal parts furious and mortified. “Wow!” he exclaims, desperate and red-faced. “Bokuto, Akaashi! You’re getting married? Tell us more!” 

The rest of the night is a chaotic, bacchanalian blur. 

Akaashi remembers things in pieces: heading home with their entire entourage and starting a drinking game, watching Konoha down half a bottle of wine just to prove he can. Dragging Sakusa, who’d passed out on the sidewalk for reasons unknown, back into the apartment and onto a bed. Having a frankly indecent makeout session with Bokuto against their fridge. Trying to order a pizza with Tenma at three in the morning when they are both essentially incoherent: _can we—is it legal to get extra cheese? Is cheese legal where you are?_

He wakes up next to Bokuto on the bedroom floor, groggy and sore and more than a little hungover. Some distance away, Kuroo and Kenma are curled up sleeping in the corner like a pair of cats. Sakusa is snoring gently on their bed. 

Akaashi notices a piece of pizza crust in Bokuto’s hair. He picks it out gingerly, and Bokuto shifts, waking. 

“Keiji,” Bokuto murmurs. “That was fun, wasn’t it?” His eyes are still closed, but he’s smiling. 

Akaashi has a pounding headache. His back hurts from the floor, and he’s so dehydrated he’s forgotten the taste of water. 

“Yeah,” he says honestly, smiling. He settles back down next to Bokuto, and Bokuto pulls him close. “It really was.” 

“Are you nervous?”

It’s the night before. They’re sitting outside on the balcony, the soft darkness enveloping them like an old friend, the stars shining as brightly as a song. Bokuto’s eyes catch the low light as he tilts his head, waiting for Akaashi to respond. 

Akaashi thinks. “I’m nervous about Hinata and Kageyama racing each other down the aisle,” he says. Bokuto laughs. “About my mom crying too much. And Konoha burning himself out.” He pauses, then takes Bokuto’s hand. “But I’m not nervous about you and me. I never am.”

Bokuto’s smile is brilliant, celestial: the moon, the sun, the stars. He presses a kiss to Akaashi’s temple, traces gentle patterns onto his palm. 

“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” Bokuto says simply. 

The next day dawns clear and bright and beautiful. In a rare moment of superstition, Akaashi lets himself take it as a sign from the universe.

Things start off a little hectic: they’re both whisked away for preparations—hair, clothes, everything. Konoha barks out orders over his phone like a man possessed. Everything happens so fast, and Akaashi feels himself tense up a little. But then Bokuto takes his hand and smiles, and Akaashi remembers to breathe, remembers that they’re both in this together. 

Before he knows it, they’ve arrived at the building—a lovely little hall where sunlight streams in through the windows—and they go their separate ways, just for now. _Don’t be scared_ , Bokuto says before they part, kissing Akaashi’s hands. _I’ll be there soon_. 

_I know_ , Akaashi says, swallowing. _I know_.

The guests have all arrived. The music has begun to play. When the time comes, Akaashi begins his walk down the aisle, his mother at his side. She is already teary, but Akaashi cannot fault her for it—no, he is overwhelmed with affection. They make their way to the end, and she leaves him to take a seat, smiling at him over her shoulder. 

Konoha comes after them, relieving Akaashi’s sweaty hands of his bouquet, and the rest of Akaashi and Bokuto’s entourage follow him. Then there’s the oddball duo, as attention-grabbing as ever. Kageyama—who is sporting an elegant flower crown—hasn't quite caught on that he's supposed to be scattering petals onto the ground, and is essentially flinging carefully-measured handfuls of flowers into the unfortunate faces of many guests. One of these unlucky people happens to be Osamu, who sneezes so hard he makes everyone jump.

"Dude," he calls after Kageyama, "what the hell?"

Ahead of Kageyama, Hinata laughs so hard he almost trips, and then rights himself hurriedly, as if suddenly remembering his precious cargo. Akaashi sighs inwardly, though he can't help but smile. At least they’re not racing. 

And then—

 _Oh_ , Akaashi thinks. _Oh._ And he knows that he’s only been parted from Bokuto for a while—less than an hour, probably—but it feels like he’s seeing him for the first time in years, that he will never, ever get enough of seeing him. Bokuto strides down the aisle with his usual bravado, a grin on his face. He is gorgeous in black, strangely mature and almost unfamiliar with his hair slicked to the side. But his eyes give him away: golden, bright, fierce with happiness—this is Bokuto Koutarou, the love of Akaashi’s life, in all his glory.

Both of Bokuto’s parents walk with him, and he hugs them before they take their seats on the benches. And then he turns to Akaashi, meeting his gaze, and does not look away as he comes to stand in front of him. 

Their officiant—a friend of Kenma’s—begins to speak. Akaashi almost feels like he’s dreaming. They say their vows. Exchange rings. Akaashi wants everything to last forever, but at the same time he’s never felt so impatient, so restless in his life. 

"You may now—"

Akaashi kisses Bokuto before the man can even finish, and Bokuto kisses him back passionately, holding him close. They kiss like it is their first time, their last time, like there is nobody else in the entire world. Their guests burst into cheers, but Akaashi can barely hear them—he is lost in the moment, in Bokuto, in the simple, beautiful satisfaction of loving and being loved. 

When they finally break apart, he is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. Bokuto is smiling too, gazing at him with unbridled joy and affection. 

"Hell YEAH!" someone screams, just a cut louder above the rest. 

Through the cheers, Akaashi hears the sound of someone blowing their nose. A few muffled sobs.

And then, loud and clear, "Kageyama-kun, are you _crying?_ " 

"Shut your _hell_ —"

At this moment, someone’s phone blares what is unquestionably the theme song of _My Neighbour Totoro_ at an incredible volume. Akaashi hears Atsumu curse audibly.

Bokuto and Akaashi turn to their guests, and see chaos. Beautiful, bright, joyful chaos. Kageyama and Hinata are at each other’s throats, as per usual, and Kageyama looks like he’s not sure whether to hit Hinata or kiss him. Yachi is bawling so hard she seems to have forgotten that she’s in public, and Sakusa offers her a handkerchief uncomfortably. Atsumu is on all fours in the aisle, presumably looking for the phone he’s just dropped, which is still going off as loudly as a live concert: _tonari no Totoro, To-to-ro_ —

Meeting Akaashi's eyes, Bokuto begins to laugh, lovely and beautiful and deep from his chest, and Akaashi can't help it—he laughs too, pressing their foreheads together. Now that Akaashi thinks about it, he and Bokuto have never been anything close to ordinary. He wonders why he'd ever expected their wedding to be otherwise.

Hand in hand, they walk out of the hall into the bright summer afternoon. Sunlight glints off of their matching wedding bands, gold on gold on gold. 

“Wait,” Bokuto says. He gestures to the bouquets. “We’re supposed to throw these at people, right?”

“Ah,” Akaashi says. “Well, not exactly _at_ , but I suppose so—“

“Okay!” Bokuto says. And then, to the assembled guests, “We’re gonna throw some flowers at you all, okay? You’re supposed to—catch it? I think?”

There’s a murmur of excitement amongst the small crowd. Some people, however, are bemused. 

“Wait,” Akaashi hears Hinata say. “What’s the point of catching these again?”

“Who cares?” Kageyama responds brusquely. “Just catch it.”

Bokuto throws his bouquet first, and pandemonium ensues. Akaashi probably should've seen this coming, considering that a good portion of the people in attendance are professional volleyball players. The whole scene looks like a very badly-organized vertical jump competition, and perhaps for some people, that's what it's become.

Hinata—of course, who else—snatches the bouquet out of the sky and lands gracefully on his feet. “Ha!” he says, waving it around triumphantly in Kageyama’s face. Kageyama pushes him away, looking irritated: _shut up_! 

Akaashi laughs. And then he throws his bouquet too, as high as he can, and it sails through the air in a graceful arc. The ensuing excitement, the shouting, the laughter, the sun in the sky and Bokuto at his side, joyful—

It all makes him feel like they’ll live forever.

The wedding dinner is at a different building in the same venue. The food has just arrived and people have barely begun to eat when Konoha taps his glass with a fork, standing up when the chatter dies down into attentive silence. He unfolds a small piece of paper, and begins to read from it.

"Akaashi," Konoha says. "Bokuto. I'm sorry I couldn't memorize this toast because I was too busy planning your wedding." A smattering of laughter. "Regardless, I want you to know that I wish you the greatest—" He swallows. He has a very conflicted expression on his face. "The greatest happiness…" 

He trails off, and Akaashi can almost pinpoint the moment when he makes a decision. 

"Oh, fuck it," Konoha says, crumpling up the paper and flinging it into a corner of the room. " _No_. Screw _that_." 

A collective gasp. Beside Konoha, Washio puts a hand over his face. Akaashi blinks, bemused. Has Konoha finally lost it? Had planning the wedding been too much for him after all?

"This is a toast," Konoha announces loudly, "to _myself_ , and everybody else on the Fukurodani volleyball club who had to watch these two idiots dance around each other like they're doing the world's longest tango." Is he drunk? He looks kind of drunk. Bokuto looks slightly taken aback at being called an idiot during his own wedding. "You—you _stupid_ idiots," Konoha continues. He wipes his eyes, and—yes, he's totally drunk. 

Washio tugs on Konoha's sleeve and whispers something. 

"No, I will _not_ stop talking!" Konoha retorts. "Years! Years of _oh, but I don't know if he likes me, do you think he likes me_? Which, granted, I expect from Bokuto, but even Akaashi! My _god_ , none of you— _none of you_ —know what we've been through. It's like—hell, it's like watching a drama on TV, and the main leads still haven't gotten together even though you're on the fiftieth episode! The hell are you waiting for? Me to die? Because I will, I'm telling you, I _will_ —" 

People are starting to laugh, especially their friends from Fukurodani. Hinata is shaking quietly with his head in his arms, trying and failing not to make any sound. 

Konoha isn't done yet. He wipes his face again with the back of his hand. "And—and now you're married. You're married! And you're welcome." His voice cracks. "I love you both so much. And I love that you love each other, so—please be happy, or I'll beat you up. Even you, Akaashi, I'll beat you up, for real—"

Seemingly exhausted from his emotional outburst, Konoha sinks down into his seat. He's crying, and he looks angry about it. 

There is a moment of silence, and then the applause and laughter is thunderous. Akaashi finds himself laughing along with Bokuto, and Bokuto takes his hand so they can make their way over to Konoha together and hug him. Bawling by now, Konoha hugs both of them back tightly, and they're joined eventually by all their Fukurodani friends, who pile on top of them in a gigantic group. Everyone's crying a bit, and Akaashi feels unbelievably grateful for all of Fukurodani, for Konoha: their wonderful, wonderful friend, jack of all trades and one in a million.

Eventually, things die down enough for Bokuto and Akaashi to make it back to their seats. Bokuto glances expectantly at Kuroo, who gives him an incredulous look. 

"Are you kidding me?" Kuroo demands. "How the _hell_ am I supposed to follow that?"

Evening falls, and Bokuto and Akaashi have their first dance (“Woohoo!” Yukie yells. “Dance!”).

They’ve practiced enough at this point for Akaashi to avoid trampling Bokuto’s toes, and for their movements to actually take on some semblance of elegance. But even with everyone watching, Akaashi finds he isn’t nervous. He looks only at Bokuto; Bokuto is looking back. They are both smiling. 

Their friends and family, all around them. The sweet music, the beat of his own heart. Bokuto's hand in Akaashi's, the other on his waist. Bokuto's gaze, loving and fond and adoring beyond belief. 

Akaashi's heart is impossibly full. He'll never forget this, not in a million years. 

The dancing goes on late into the night, as it does at any good party. Spent, Akaashi finds himself just sitting next to Bokuto for a good portion of the evening, sipping languidly from a flute of champagne. Bokuto is still exuberant, though a little subdued—he’s tired after everything too, and lays his head on Akaashi’s shoulder to rest. Content together, they simply watch the chaos unfolding around them, laughing and making gentle jokes. 

“Everyone’s asking Hinata to dance,” Akaashi notes. 

Bokuto chuckles. “He’s an attractive volleyball player,” he says. “We’re in high demand, you know?”

“Are you, now?” Akaashi says, feeling himself smile. 

“You tell me,” Bokuto says, straightening up to kiss him on the cheek. It’s so small a gesture, but it makes Akaashi’s heart skip a beat. 

“Well,” Akaashi says, teasing, “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I quite like _my_ attractive volleyball player.”

Bokuto hums, pleased. “That’s good,” he says. “He likes you a lot too! Enough to marry you, actually.”

Akaashi laughs. “Yes, yes,” he says. “Enough to marry me. I know.” And then, noticing the way Bokuto leans against him, the way he exhales long and tiredly, “Should we go home?”

“Are we… allowed to do that?” Bokuto says, frowning. 

“It’s late,” Akaashi says, and it’s true—midnight has long passed. “I don’t think anyone will miss us.” 

Bokuto looks out at the dance floor, where Yachi has rushed in to attempt to save Hinata from his circle of suitors (“Ex-excuse me! Hinata-kun is very tired, please let him rest!”), grabbing both him and Kageyama by the hand and leading them away. “I guess you’re right,” he says. He stands up, takes one last gulp of champagne. “Let’s call a taxi or something. And get our stuff.”

They do so quietly, eventually heading out without anyone really noticing. They run into Kuroo outside, who is apparently just finishing up a business call. 

He grins when he sees them. “Early wedding night?” he asks, putting his phone away.

Bokuto blushes. “Well—”

“Just kidding, bud,” Kuroo says, laughing. “I mean, not really. Hope you guys enjoy yourselves. I’m gonna head back in.” He smiles, genuine. “And, hey—congratulations again, yeah?”

“Thanks, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi says, earnest.

“Kuroo!” Bokuto exclaims, suddenly emotional, and pulls Kuroo into a tight hug. Akaashi watches, amused. After a moment, both Kuroo and Bokuto turn to give him an expectant look.

“Oh,” Akaashi says. “You want—”

Kuroo beckons him over, smiling. “Come on then, Akaashi-kun,” he says, and Akaashi sighs fondly, but joins the hug anyways. 

It’s a very long hug. It’s very comfortable, though. After a few moments, Kuroo laughs. 

“Alright, guys,” he says. “Your taxi’s here. It’s time to go home.”

The ride back is quiet, peaceful. They don’t talk much, but they’re always holding hands, and they even make out a little in the back of the taxi. Hey, it’s their wedding night, after all.

When they step out of the car, the night air is crisp and cool, enough so to make them sober up a little. Hand in hand, they make their way to the door of their apartment, and it almost feels like coming home after a normal night out together. 

Akaashi glances up at the sky, and is pleasantly surprised by the brightness and number of stars, shining across the night like something out of a story. He pauses. “Look,” he tells Bokuto, squeezing his hand gently.

“Oh, wow,” Bokuto says, looking up. He smiles. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Akaashi says. “It is.”

They meet each other’s eyes, and Akaashi suddenly feels like they’re in high school again. Because even now, they're still the same, nine years later. They've grown in mind and body, but at the end of the day, they're the same teenagers who'd gazed at each other longingly from across the gym, the same boys who'd fallen in love clumsily and wholeheartedly. And when Akaashi looks at Bokuto, he sees not only the past but a glimpse of the future too, everything that’s still to come: waking up to each other in the morning, adopting a legion of cats, having more lunches with Hinata and Kageyama. Volleyball games. Moving house. Dancing in their bedroom under the moonlight, even when they are white-haired with age.

Perhaps the most thrilling thing about all this is that Akaashi can look at Bokuto, and know that he is thinking the same thing. That the fondness in Bokuto’s eyes is reflected in his own. That he is never alone in feeling what he feels. 

_My star_ , Akaashi thinks, gazing at Bokuto. _My heart._

Almost as if he hears Akaashi, Bokuto smiles and laughs gently. "Come on, Keiji,” he says. “Let’s go inside.” 

"Alright," Akaashi says, kissing Bokuto’s hand. "It's been a long day."

The stars are bright. The night is lovely. Together, they cross the threshold of their home, stepping forward into the future, into forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is possibly the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. i know it's not realistic, but a girl can dream, right? i also apologize for the undoubtedly large number of wedding-related inaccuracies. to this day, i've never been to a wedding LOL f 
> 
> anyways, i've been screaming to like... anyone who will listen that the chorus lyrics from abba's [i've been waiting for you](https://open.spotify.com/track/0XKta2wRdEx9dDCxPYhd7S?si=rXs0zZkCQxCczN8_WVtNbQ) are some of the most bokuaka lyrics to have ever been written. like "you thrill me, you delight me / you please me, you excite me" oh my GOD!! and then "i love you, i adore you / i lay my life before you" LIKE OH MY ADLFKAJ;DF!!! so that's where the title came from. personally, i prefer the [version](https://open.spotify.com/track/7C3xydn7tJZLCSBcV2ZFYe?si=T4YXAOsSRsyIeXMiQN1ZrA) from mamma mia 2, though they spun it more in a parental love direction. i just think it sounds smoother, and tbh some of the original's other lyrics are a little too... forceful for me LOL
> 
> edit: also i never mentioned their last names b/c i thought about it and it gave me a headache. their last names are whatever u want them to be. and please forgive me for making them only children when bokuto obv gives off brother vibes, i was too tired to write OCs T_T
> 
> as always, hope you could enjoy this at least a little, and thank you all for reading!!! i appreciate all kudos and comments! have a great day, friends


End file.
